Over the next three weeks we made insane amounts of progress with Project V. 112 went down to 47, thanks to work from myself, T.J., Mary, Ketch, and Pierce. Alton Morehead's work proved to be tremendously helpful, and he was interested in my ideas as well. Our collaboration led to an idea that was being tested and refined back in London, a multi-ball for whenever you weren't certain what you were going up against. Once activated, it was supposed to read the room and react accordingly. Vampires were irradiated, werewolves were shot at with silver, ghosts were analyzed for any sort of facial recognition and repeatedly hit with a mixture of salt and iron, et cetera. It was supposed to have 20 different functions, total, that would be activated based on what was found in the room.
Once Alton's people back at HQ had a prototype, we were going to begin testing phases. I was excited for it, as was Alton. It would be a huge breakthrough and a potential standard for any mission.
I had just gotten out of a meeting with Alton on possible runework to keep it stable (my current theory was to mix some of the Celtic I'd learned with different detection spells in existence, but Alton wanted to refer to a few different texts that may have similar ideas. He was searching through the digital archives whereas I was going back to my room to see if there was anything in the Book of the Damned) when my phone rang. I saw the familiar picture of a little fruity drink with an umbrella and a pitchfork sticking out of it, and answered immediately. "Hey, what's up?"
"I need to meet with you." He stated. I looked around, seeing if anyone was nearby. I knew that no matter how good of graces I was in, that nobody would look upon me talking with the King of Hell favorably.
"What's wrong?"
"It's important." He said, sounding almost… Defeated. "Can you just… Can you meet me at the cantina?" I knew which one he was talking about, the one I'd met him at before leaving for London.
I almost said no, I have work, I'm busy, but his tone stopped me. I'd never heard him sound like that before. Sarcastic, yes. Bored, yes. Angry, yes. Cheerful for some very sadistic and demonic reasons, yes. Annoyed, yes. Determined, yes. Convinced, yes. Even accepting, yes. But… saddened, resigned, absolutely hopeless… Even when we were certain the world was going to end, he didn't sound like this. It was bittersweet, then. Like an old man saying they had a good run. This… This was like him telling me someone in his family had died.
Couldn't be Rowena. He wouldn't sound that dejected.
"Yeah," I promised, nodding as I did. "I can be there in ten minutes."
"Thank you." He hung up, then, and I stared at my phone for only a moment before I started speed-walking to my room. I grabbed a jacket, changed in to normal clothes (re- not all black and for hunting), and made sure my angel blades were strapped to me like normal.
All in all, I wasn't going and looking for a fight. I was just going to visit an old friend. I took a breath, throwing my wallet in my pocket before I started heading for the doors.
T.J. caught me on my way out. "Where are you headed off to?" He asked. "We just got back from a nest, don't tell me you're headed back out again without me."
"This isn't a hunt," I promised him. "It's personal."
"Well, what's going on?" He asked. "I can come with you, for protection. You don't seem to be very armed or prepared in case of an emergency."
"When have I ever needed much weaponry?" I asked playfully, raising an eyebrow. "I did just fine on my own when we first met." I laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully with my own. He laughed as well.
"Right, you did." He said, nodding. "Still, though… I don't want you going out on your own. It's dangerous."
"Really?" I asked, giving him a sarcastic smile. "And I thought it was all unicorns and rainbows."
"I'm serious, Kylie." He gripped my shoulder lightly.
"What do I have to worry about now that I wouldn't on a daily basis?" I asked.
"We've been hunting down every Vampire in this area." He said. "And I'm certain others in different states have heard about it. If they know it's you, they could come after you while you're alone."
"Good thing I won't be alone, then." I said.
"So you're bringing me with you?"
"No." I shook my head. "I'm just going to meet a very old friend."
"Who is it?" He looked confused. "Castiel?"
"No," I looked around, seeing if anyone is nearby. Once I was certain it was clear, I pulled him in close. "It's Crowley."
"The demon?!" He almost said it too loud, but I clamped down on his mouth quickly.
"Yeah, the demon." I nodded. "It's important. He wouldn't ask to meet up if it wasn't."
"I don't feel comfortable with you meeting a demon on your own." He said. "Especially with everything that is going on."
"T.J., it's Crowley," I rolled my eyes. "I promise you, I'll be safe."
"At least tell me where you're going, then." He requested. "And keep your phone on you, in case something happens." I thought about it. It wasn't unreasonable, and in all honesty if roles were reversed I'd be making the same requests for his safety as well.
"Fine." I agreed. "A little cantina right near the Texas/Mexico border, La Cocina de las Risas."
"Thank you." He said. "When will you be back?"
"Probably not for a few hours." I said. "Can you cover for me?" He thought for a minute.
"Take your bike," he said. "And bring me back some tacos. If anyone asks, I'll say you went to get takeaway food."
"Sounds good." I agreed. "Hard taco, extra tomatoes?" He made a disgusted face.
"No," he requested. "Soft taco, light tomatoes, and hot sauce." Now it was my turn to look confused.
"I thought you loved extra tomatoes." I muttered. He shook his head.
"No, they're disgusting." He said.
"You always got extra tomatoes on your burgers, though." I reminded him.
"Yeah, but that was in London." He said. "I don't know what it is, but your tomatoes here in America are absolutely distasteful." I laughed.
"Whatever." I said. "See you in a few hours. And thank you."
"No problem." He said. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, wiggling it in front of him for a moment before shoving it back in its place. He smiled before walking away, and I made my own way to my motorcycle. I rode out with ease, telling the guards at the gate exactly what T.J. had said, that I'm out getting takeout food for us. From there I rode hard and fast until the trees hid me, and stashed my bike off to the side of the road.
"Concelo," I whispered, moving it behind a few trees. "Et recordabor." When I said those last two words, a single rune on the side lit up bright purple for only a moment before the entire motorcycle was gone from view. Conceal and Remember. The rune on the side would let me find it again in case it was moved (or in case I had a hard time finding my invisible motorcycle… again).
Then I just… showed up at the cantina, sitting opposite of Crowley. He already had two drinks on the table, one for him and one for me. He glanced over at a clock before looking at me. "Fifteen minutes." He commented. "Getting slow in your old age?"
"Got held up leaving." I said. "No worries. Just a concerned friend."
"How are things going now, anyways?" He asked. "You've got the angel back in your life. You have power. You have ambition. You have the world in your hands, more or less," he swirled a finger around the rim of his drink for a moment, thinking. "You have every opportunity you could ask for your now."
"Life is good." I summed up.
"You planning on moving back in with Castiel?"
"We're taking things slow." I said. "Dean and Sam aren't exactly big fans of me being in the Men of Letters, so I won't be moving back in to the Bunker any time soon."
"They'll come around." Crowley said. "They like you. You're their… Their family." He said the word almost bitterly. "Like how Mary is their family and Castiel is their family.
"Crowley," I spoke slowly, and took a sip from my drink before actually asking the question. "Why did you call? You don't ever call for social reasons."
"I…" He sighed. "It's my son, Gavin."
"You have a son?"
"Yeah." He said, smiling wistfully. "Little bastard."
"Can I meet him?"
"It depends," he sunk down in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. I don't think I'd ever seen him like that before, just…
For once, he wasn't trying to look like a leading figure, or like he was in control, or like he couldn't care less. He just looked human.
For the first time, a demon looked quite undeniably human.
"Can you time travel?" He asked. I thought. I could, technically. There was a spell in the archives of the Bunker, an old one. But it was extremely finnicky, and one of those in case of emergency, break glass kinds of things. And there had been a spell in the Book of the Damned that could do it, but it would require a secondary person.
I could, in all honesty, if I wanted to. But I didn't. You don't mess with time. You don't go back and change things.
"Why?" I asked instead.
"Because Gavin went back." He said. "And he's dead."
"How do you know?"
"Did you hear anything about any school teachers being killed over the last few months?" He asked. I shook my head. Nothing had come across my radar. "It was a ghost. Gavin's girlfriend or whatever," he shook his own head, throwing his hand up to wave in the air for a moment before propping his head on his fingertips. "I didn't even know he had a girlfriend. Fiona Duncan, apparently." He sighed. "There was so much about my boy's life that I didn't know, so much I never go to ask him or learn about. And now, he's dead again." He took a long drink. "Down with the ship and his bonnie lass."
"Crowley," I wasn't certain what to say, much less what to do. I settled for reaching across to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss." I finally said, deciding to just go with the simplest route. Crowley nodded, his expression a little more composed.
"It was what the bloody idiot wanted." He said. "He even knew what would happen if he got on that ship, and he got on anyways."
"How did he get back?" I asked after thinking for a moment. Crowley couldn't time travel. Castiel couldn't time travel anymore. The only people who possibly could were me and….
"Rowena." Crowley answered. "At Moose and Squirrel's request, the bloody traitors."
"But didn't you say Gavin wanted to go back?" I asked. "To be with Fiona?"
"Rowena sent him back to hurt me." Crowley stated. "As payback for Oskar." I remembered that day. She'd had to kill him for a spell, to get the Mark of Cain off of Dean. It had been horrifying to watch. "She led him to make that choice."
"But Dean and Sam just wanted to save people." I pointed out. "And didn't it save those teachers?" I didn't have anything on any dead teachers, so it must've worked. Crowley just huffed.
"Who bloody cares about a few schoolteachers?" He asked. "What use are they anyways?"
"You don't mean that." I said. Then I remembered who I was talking to. I was still talking to a demon. He very well could and probably did mean that. He didn't answer though, didn't prove me right or wrong, just moved his hands for a second before setting his head down lightly on his knuckles.
"Dean and Sam are Hunters." He finally said. "They turned you away. How can you still defend them when they're just going to kill the both of us once we stop being bloody useful?"
"I'm not useful right now," I pointed out. "They're not big fans of me, even. And I don't have a bullet in my back."
"That's because the angel would be put off by your death." He stated. "Me, however, and Rowena… I couldn't care less about her, but still," he shrugged dejectedly. "Dead as doornails the second we're no longer considered needed. We're a means to an end."
"No, you're not." I argued. "Dean and Sam wouldn't have kept you around this long if you were."
"I've just been useful at the right times." He said. "They're Hunters. They'll come after me when the timing is right. It's in their nature."
"Then what about me?" I challenged. "Without Castiel, what about me?"
"Then you'd probably be in the gutter too." He said. "Hell, I'm honestly shocked the Men of Letters have kept you around this long. They'll probably take you out when you stop being useful as well."
"I doubt that." I said.
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "They didn't bat an eye when your dog died, did they? Neither did Tweedledumb and Dumber." I didn't answer, and he kept going. "The Men of Letters are what drove the Loughlins and Rowena to America in the first place."
"But that was a long time ago." I reminded him. "Times change. They've changed."
"Really?" He asked. "What makes you so certain?"
"Because I'm alive," I started out with. "They offered me that job. And… And…" That was the only thing I could think of. Their goal was a world without monsters, without…
Without things like me.
No. No, that's not true. They trusted me. I was one of them. I had a stable life.
But why had I decided to not say anything, much less tell anyone I was going to meet up with Crowley? I knew they would look down on me for it.
That they wouldn't accept me for it.
Like so many of them hadn't accepted me at first, and how I'd had to stand up to another one of their own in much higher standing to get any leeway for myself.
"That's all I could think of when I asked myself the same questions about the Winchesters." He said. I shook my head.
"No, there are so many more reasons than that." I argued. "Look, who did they go to when the end of the world was nigh to recruit help?" I poked him in the shoulder. "You. Who did they go to for help about finding the First Blade?" Another poke to the shoulder. "You. Who saved Castiel a few weeks ago in that barn, when none of us could do anything?" I clenched my teeth for a moment, still pissed at myself for that helplessness I felt. "You. Sam and Dean owe you so much, not to mention Castiel and me. You saved my life, you saved Castiel's, you've saved Sam and Dean's," I shrugged, lifting my hands palms-up for a moment. "Face it, you're a good guy now, and good guys don't get killed."
Crowley sat there for a while, not speaking, as he finished his drink. Finally he let out a long exhale, glaring at me. The glare didn't have any bite though, it was just a half-hearted habit. "You are absolutely the most annoyingly uplifting and optimistic witch I've ever met."
"Deal with it." I challenged, offering him a half-smile. Crowley rolled his eyes.
"I hate you."
"Sure you do, good guy." I said, patting his shoulder. "I'll buy the next round."
We sat and talked for a few hours, and Crowley told me all about Gavin. What he looked like, what his habits were as a kid, what he'd learned after Gavin had been brought to the 21st century and HOW.
"And I've still got the damned ring." He muttered afterwards, pulling it out of his pocket. It was a small signet ring, with a lot of water damage on it. "Back before you could even consider me to be a 'good guy,' which I'm still adamantly opposed to," he pointed a little, to emphasize his point. "I held Bobby's soul hostage. They summoned my son's ghost to find my bones, threatened to kill me thanks to that bloody bastard child." He smiled a little. "That was the proudest I've ever been of my son."
"Do you mind if I?" I asked, motioning to the ring. He nodded a second later, and I picked it up. I didn't know what spell Bobby had used, but I had a few things I could do. I looked around, seeing how crowded the place was. There was maybe five other people, including the bartender. I waved a hand around us, putting up the same type of concealing field I'd had in London. I grabbed a napkin, unfolding it as I placed the ring on the napkin.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Do you want to see your son one more time?" I asked. "Talk with him once more?"
"You can do that?" He asked. I nodded. "Then… No." He said.
"What?"
"No." He said firmly, shaking his head. He picked up the ring, putting it back in his pocket. "He lived his own life, and he deserves to die in it without my meddling or being angry with him again."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." I put away the napkin, and took down the field.
"Are you OK with that?"
"Yes."
"Alright, then." I said. "Are you going to be OK?"
"I think so." He decided. "It's just been difficult since you left."
"You could've picked up the phone sooner." I reminded him.
"No I couldn't." He argued. "You went off to live your own life. You were happy, and proved it yourself by what you said last time we spoke about the Men of Letters."
This time it was my turn to finish my drink in silence, uncertain as to how to respond. He was right, I had been happy. I still was, or at least thought I was. But with Sam and Dean and Castiel back in the mix alongside exterminating an entire area of vampires… And what I'd asked T.J. last time I'd been in London…
I wasn't as sure now, I guess. And I didn't know what to do about that. I was still happy, but I kept feeling that something was going to fall through at any moment.
Then again, with that being the main theme of my life since I got in this whole mess, I guess it's something I'd come to expect.
"I'm here now." I offered.
"I almost didn't call," he admitted. "You're still working. You're still enjoying your work."
"What I'm working on is almost over, and I'm asking Mick and Ketch about a reassignment once it is." I said.
"Really? To what?"
"Working with Castiel to find Kelly and Lucifer's child."
"And you think they'll let you?"
"Of course they will." I said. "I'll be helping find the damn antichrist. Why would they say no?"
"Everyone hates to lose a star pupil." He commented.
"It's in the interest of the greater good and keeping them updated on an important issue in America." I pointed out. "Again, why would they say no?"
"Dean and Sam won't be keen on you doing that."
"I'll make it work, somehow." I stated. "I always do."
"Best of luck, then." He said, standing.
"You're leaving?"
"I have important business in Hell that, quite frankly, I've been away from long enough as it is." He said. "Thank you, though. Thank you for meeting me here."
"Don't be a stranger." I told him. "Call if you need a person."
"I'm the King of Hell!" He reminded me. I raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't forget to call either if you ever need some unholy assistance."
"Will do." I promised. He picked up his last drink, and raised it to me. I raised mine back as he disappeared in to thin air.
I walked over to the bar, picked up the tab, and added on the takeout food for T.J that I'd promised. I got back without a lot of difficulties, and rode in happily with the food. T.J. was waiting for me inside the compound.
"How did it go?" He asked, taking the food. "Ooh, you remembered! Thank you!"
"It went well." I said, nodding. "It went really well."
"Good." He smiled. "You wanna talk about it?" I thought about it, thought about telling my best friend what had happened. Telling him about Crowley, telling him about just talking with my friend, just talking with my friend about it all.
Then again, I wasn't even going to tell him about me leaving to see him in the first place. On one hand, I didn't want to get him in trouble. On the other hand… It was like I was in two separate lives, kind of. One life in the Men of Letters, doing what I loved and doing good for the world. The other one was back with Crowley and Cas and Sam and Dean and Rowena, and just fighting the good fight in a different way. Keeping things at a pretty decent standstill, just working to make sure the world stayed alive.
"Maybe later." I decided.
"Are you sure?" He asked, looking concerned. "You know you can talk with me about anything, right?"
"Yeah, I know." I agreed. "I just…" I shook my head. "No, you're right, I can talk to you. You're my best friend. I can tell you anything."
So we went back to my room, sat with the Mexican takeout from the little cantina that was states away from us, and talked. It was different than talking with Crowley, we laughed more and made more jokes. We smiled more. We talked through things more.
It was different, but I wouldn't say it was better. Just… Just a part of that different world.
